


A Clash of Dragons

by CyclonicJet



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-11
Updated: 2018-12-11
Packaged: 2019-09-16 14:56:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16956108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CyclonicJet/pseuds/CyclonicJet
Summary: Thank you for reading! I'd love to see any of your thoughts or comments you might have! Is there anything you liked or think I could improve? Please feel free to tell me!





	A Clash of Dragons

The wind tore at his cloak, threatening to rip it away from him entirely. Pounding rain pummelled him, but he did not relent in his flight in spite of the lashing. A flash of lightning cracked across the sky illuminating the world below. A valley of storm tossed grass sat far beneath him and Silverflame. In the centre of it all lay a frothing lake of frenzied waters. Normally no rider would have dared risk journeying through such awful weather. But this night he had been left with no other choice. For this night he was pursued.

Hard and fast upon his heels rode those he had once called his kin. A column of flames gouged the air of to his right, followed swiftly by the reverberations of a dragon's roar. He pushed Silverflame down and to the left, towards the ground below, desperately trying to throw off their pursuit. “They may be able to keep up with us up here!” he yelled down to Silverflame. “But I doubt they can out manoeuvre us down in the valley!” The dragon roared in response and turned down deeper into the valley.

In the daylight his silver scales sparkled magnificently, but here in the storm ravaged night they were like droplets of moonlight suspended in the air. The traitors that pursued them could never hope to match the beauty of him, the tawny brown and dull green beasts that they were. But they had the advantage in strength and he knew it. Silverflame may have been half a size again larger than either of them, but they were both of much stockier builds, and there was two of them. In a storm like this there bulk was allowing them to bull through the wind and keep pace with Silverflame, where usually they would have lagged far behind.

They dove low over the windswept fields of grass as another gout of flame scorched the earth just behind them. “Faster! We must reach the lake!” he yelled. At that the dragon surged forward and began to leave the two others behind. Promptly they found themselves soaring over the tempest of darkened waters. So low were they now that he could feel the spray in the air lifting from the tops of waves. ‘Perfect.’ he thought.

But he knew couldn't run forever. He might be able to outpace them for a while, but there was no way in a storm like this he would ever outrun them. So his only chance was to turn and fight before both he and Silverflame were too exhausted to do so. Thus he reigned Silverflame into a tight turn back towards there pursuers. Outnumbered as they were, they made up for it in this otherwise lopsided fight with years of accumulated skill and experience. These two yuppies would rue the day they challenged Anarion Tanvalas; First Blade of the Draconian Order of and his steed Silverflame the Swift!

The sharp change in direction had thrown off the pursuers charge, who had been pushing hard to catch up. They attempted to match the turn, but came up short as Silverflame sailed past their snouts. Taking advantage of there momentary confusion he urged the dragon up into the sky and into a short loop. Coming out of it he saw the brown beast known as Vindalash beneath him, its rider Fensrit staring up at them with a tangled mix of confusion and horror.

Silverflame took the initiative and dove down towards them, grappling Vindalash with his claws from above. As the dragons struggled against one other Anarion turned to try and spot the other dragon. He spotted him flying around towards them a ways off. They had apparently decided to take take a long arcing turn.

Suddenly Silverflame bucked and yelped, kicking down hard on Vindalash beneath him. The push was fierce enough, and the beast low enough, to plunge both dragon and rider into the turbulent waves beneath. A terrifying roar rung out, not for its fierceness, but for the fear held within it. The dragon slashed at the water attempting to claw its way out of the churning waters, but to no avail. A mighty blast of flame erupted out of the lake, but was quickly swallowed by the waves and rain. Then the dragon and its rider vanished completely beneath the inky black surface.

While he had been watching the final moments of Fensrit and Vindalash, Anarion had failed to notice the closing mass that was the green dragon Blacktongue. But Silverflame had not been so absent minded. As such Anarion suddenly found himself near flung clean off his perch as Silverflame jolted sharply to the side to avoid being hit. He slipped down and grabbed onto the dragon's tail and held on for dear life as they began dancing higher into the air.

From his new found position at the tail he could see Silverflame was labouring with each beat of his wing, and he was also moving slightly more sluggish than before. The reason why became apparent quickly when he noticed the dappled jewels of sparkling red blood whipping past him. He had been cut hard along the belly, the scales there having been torn clean off by Fensrit’s blade leaving a deep gash sewn into his flesh. It had been the last vindictive act of the dead man. Cursing that dead man’s name under his breath he started to try and clamber his way back up to his perch upon Silverflame’s back.

But he suddenly found himself once more gripping hard with his arms as Silverflame dodged a lance of blackened flames, with it being more billowing dark smoke then blazing fire. Then they were abruptly diving back down again, back towards the lake far below. When had they had travelled so high? He couldn’t tell, he had been so focused on not falling off that he had stopped paying any real attention to the world around him. But he became acutely aware of just how quickly the lake was rising to meet them. He began clambering again, shifting his way back up toward his perch. He had reached Silverflame’s lower back when he witnessed Blacktongue suddenly break off and curve sharply upward, aiming to regain horizontal flight.

A split moment later Silverflame suddenly twisted sharply in a corkscrew manoeuvre and flared his wings hard to stop his descent. Water splashed over him as he realised they were soaring amongst the raging tempest of waves that was the lake.  Silverflame had put them in amongst the monstrously large waves in an attempt to throw off their pursuers. His corkscrew had placed them flying in the opposite direction to the other dragon and his rider, a perfect chance to escape. They glided amongst the giant mounds of water, weaving and dodging as they rose, crested, and crashed all around them. Anarion finally managed to clamber his way back to his perch and took the proverbial reigns once more.

He could feel Silverflame sagging beneath him as he continued to lose blood. They needed to escape this storm and find haven swiftly if they were to survive. Nudging the dragon upwards they again soared high and towards the surrounding mountains. Turning around he spied the other dragon flying low over the waters towards them. He couldn't afford to engage in another fight, not with Silverflame injured as he was. There was only one thing for it then. Urging the dragon higher and higher they soared out of sight into the cloud bank above.

The world became a deafening cacophony of wind and rain as it battered down on them from all sides. But in here they were hidden from the eyes of Blacktounge or his rider Renier. But while they may have been been safe from battle with them, they were not safe from duelling the elements themselves. A sudden powerful down draft caught them unaware and Silverflame roared in fury as they were knocked down hard. So brutal was the wind that the two of them were knocked clean out of the clouds and back into the storm below.

Escaping the squall Anarion took a quick glance around. He could see no trace of the other rider or his dragon. They must have flown into the clouds after them. Now perhaps was there chance to escape. He once more prodded Silverflame down towards the mountains. But the closer they got to the haven of the mountain passes, the more he could feel the dragon sagging beneath him. Silverflame was now struggling to even remain aloft. So difficult had it become he had stopped flapping entirely, opting to just glide downward instead.

As they soared amongst the great monuments of stone Anarion tried to spot a place they might take refuge from the storm. He spotted a small cleft in a mountain to his right, pulling in closer it revealed it had been disguising a small entrance to a cave carved into the rock. In less pressing circumstances Anarion would never have considered such a place. Too many questions plagued it. Such as whether it was already occupied, or was it a natural formation or man made? Too many unknowns that could prove mortally dangerous. But they had no other option now. It would be far more dangerous to keep flying with Silverflame failing rapidly beneath him. He directed the dragon into the cave

The two of them soared through the mouth of the cave, with Silverflame landing down hard and skidding forward a good twenty feet before collapsing onto his side. His breathing was laboured and soft growls of pain escaped his jaws. Anarion fell down from his perch and landed hard onto the stone beneath. Quickly shaking it off he stood up and ran round to tend to Silverflame’s wound. Finally getting his first glimpse of the damage done horrified him. A gash spread from near the upper part of his torso to about half way down his front. The scales in the area were soaked ruby red and the blood still continued to flow out from the open wound.

He knew if he didn't act fast that he would soon be beyond his help. Withdrawing a decanter from his robes he uncorked it and moved to pour it down along the length of the wound. “This is going to hurt buddy. Please just tough it out!” he said. As soon as the fluid touched the wound the dragon roared angrily in pain, his claws scraping the rock around him in a deafening screeching noise.  As the fluid soaked into the gash, the wound began to squirm and slowly close. Tissue and muscle began knitting together beneath the skin of the dragon. The initial roar of pain dulled to a soft groaning noises as Silverflame accepted the harsh reality of it.

As he worked to save the dragons life he thought he heard the roar of another dragon somewhere far off in the night. It must have been Blacktounge, announcing his frustration at having lost his prey.

When at last he was satisfied with Silverflame’s immediate condition he retreated back and examined it. The poliduce had successfully mended the flesh, despite the fact it was slightly discoloured now from its usual radiant white. The scales were absent but would regrow in time. The important thing was that Silverflame wouldn't die, at least not this night.

The dragon had quickly passed into a deep slumber after he had finished. That was okay, he needed to rest after being pushed so hard. Despite his own tiredness he couldn’t sleep, not with Blacktounge still out there. So instead he settled himself down into as comfortable a position as he could in a corner of the cave, his eyes fixed on the mouth of the cave and the raging storm outside. 'It's going to be a long night...' he thought morosely to himself.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I'd love to see any of your thoughts or comments you might have! Is there anything you liked or think I could improve? Please feel free to tell me!


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